by Dan Davis
They were out there. Somewhere beyond the twisted, burning wreckage of the Victory was the wheelhunter warship. Her equipment was overwhelmed by noise and Sheila wasn’t there to process it, filter it out and so Kat had no idea if the alien ship was operational or if the Victory had taken out the enemy before she had been destroyed herself. And her ship certainly seemed finished. The engines were not firing. The ship had come apart in more than one place and entire ring sections were spinning away from the core, which seemed snapped in two. Kat’s home. For years, all she had known. Everyone she knew.
Her system was unable to detect escape capsules amongst the debris. Maybe, she thought, the wheelhunters had taken out the escape pods with their weapons.
Now, she had a choice to make. Whether to start her main engines and burn hard away, either for the planet or out to where the Stalwart Sentinel was coming in. She had fuel enough to get halfway across the system so her options were open in that regard. The Captain had ordered her to get the data block data to Admiral Howe so they would know about the range and nature of the particle beam weapon, or whatever it was. But Kat was aware that the Sentinel was travelling at enormous speed and even though it was supposed to be slowing down, for all she knew they would fly by Arcadia without entering orbit. If she was in charge of that ship, or any warship, she would accelerate past her target as fast as she could while shooting everything she had during the pass.
Yeah and that’s why you’ll never be a captain, or even a commander, let alone an admiral. You’re just a pilot. You don’t know shit.
Then again, all she had to do was send a message. If she was away from all the debris and interference she could boost power to the communications and send the information.
If the wheelhunters detected it, the shuttle would end up toast. But she had her orders.
On the other hand, she had a passenger compartment full of VIPs who needed to get to the surface. She could land them there and use the outpost’s massive aerial and their massive power output to get the message to the Sentinel. Assuming the outpost was still there and that she would make it to the surface.
Starting her engines would alert the wheelhunters to her presence. While she drifted away from the wreckage of the Victory, there was always the chance— a slim chance— that the aliens would believe the shuttle was no more than a chunk of the mother ship. A piece of debris approximately half the size of one of the ring sections. Even if they recognized in the wings the shape of an atmospheric craft, as long as they showed no signs of life, they might just let her go.
Probably what she should do was drift for a while. Drift for a day or even two days, depending on the Sentinel’s speed and how quickly it came within range. The Lepus had the fuel, the food. Enough for weeks. The passengers would hate it. Some would order her to land on Arcadia and others perhaps would order her toward the Sentinel but she could deal with the VIPs. Then, when Admiral Howe was close enough she would send the message about the alien weapon and then burn for all she was worth. Maybe the wheelers would leave her alone to focus on the real danger and then she could land at the outpost. If she burned for the Sentinel right away, the alien ship would see her, would take her out for sure.
She wished Sheila was operational. She wanted someone to run her ideas—
Impact.
Something hit the shuttle. A strike powerful enough to send her into a twisting spin. A very unpleasant rotation. The cries of the passengers came through on her smart comms system, the idiot backup for the AI assuming she would want to know they were terrified. She shut the stupid thing off.
What had hit her? Debris? An alien weapon? The sensors and alarms overwhelmed her, even with the ERANS.
She checked her trajectory. They were now tumbling directly into the path of Arcadia. Hitting the atmosphere dead on at current speeds would smash her shuttle to bits and incinerate those pieces before they reached the surface. Her course had to be adjusted.
She would go with plan B after all. Burn for the planet and use the outpost comms system to warn the Sentinel.
And if they had targeted her, she had to get away, fast. She used the RCS thrusters to point the right way so they would enter the atmosphere at a survival angle and fired the main engines.
A red light on the power console grew from a pin prick width stream of photons into a torrent, a flare of neon crimson glaring in the corner of her eye before it faded into a dribble again, then grew back into a swelling glow of red.
Warning. Warning.
Power transmission failure to main engines.
Shit.
9.
“No sir,” Sergeant Stirling had said. “We’re going to help you.”
Private Flores had shut the door to the empty lab and the rest of F Team settled and spoke in low voices. Ram hoped there was no one awake nearby but most of those on watch would be active or even patrolling outside. Civilians and Marines not on watch would hopefully be asleep in their own designated sleeping areas of the outpost.
Leaning his armored ass against a groaning bench, Ram tried to calm his excitement and his fear. This was an opportunity for him to recruit six Marines to help him rescue Milena. On the other hand, Ensign Tseng glared at him and Ram was aware of the risk to him if he took a misstep in the next few minutes. If any one of the team were to report him, he might be locked up by Captain Cassidy.
“You want to help me rescue the prisoners?” Ram asked Sergeant Stirling.
Sneaking out the outpost alone would be possible, Ram knew. Sneaking the entire team out would be more difficult.
“That we do, sir. And that we will, sir.” Stirling said, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.
“Stop addressing him as an officer,” Ensign Tseng said.
Stirling frowned. “But he—”
“He’s officially a civilian and he is not in receipt of any commission.”
Harris spoke up, fixing the ensign with a stare. “Addressing a civilian in that manner is a matter of convention, Ensign Tseng.”
Tseng took a deep breath and Ram sensed an argument coming.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ram said, irritated. “Call me what you like, call me anything, or nothing. I don’t care. But I don’t have time for any debates. Those people are prisoners and every hour they stay that way, the more likely it is they all end up dead. Help me or let me go, now.”
“You’ll accept what help you’re given,” Tseng said, straightening up, “and you’ll be grateful that we do not turn you in for going AWOL.”
Ram turned on him. “I’m not a Marine, you said so yourself. I can’t go AWOL. I never volunteered for anything.”
The Marines looked at each other.
“Well, that all depends how you look at it, don’t it, sir,” Harris said. “Like with—” Cooper kicked Harris in the shin and he stopped whatever he was going to say.
“Be that as it may,” Ensign Tseng said. “You will be punished if you run off without orders, whatever your status. Either by Zuma or by Cassidy.”
Ram knew the team were all in trouble with Cassidy already. Sifa said they were all taken off of active duty and had only been armed out of desperation. But Ram hoped that with a little nudge, they would explain exactly what their status was.
“They don’t scare me,” Ram said, although both Zuma and Cassidy did, in a way. “But all of you could be punished if you helped me get away. Why would you do that? Your careers would be over.”
“Our careers are all over as it is,” Flores said, grinning. She seemed young.
“Speak for yourself,” Tseng said. “My own has suffered a temporary, though admittedly severe, retardation. Once the Corps leadership on the Sentinel gets here, I will be reinstated. Colonel Mathieson holds me in high regard and he will overrule Cassidy. I have no doubt. None at all.”
Flores giggled and Cooper laughed. Corporal Fury appeared to be asleep.
“It is the truth,” Tseng said, scowling. “Your imbecilic giggling is unbecoming. You may fe
el your careers are over, you are still Marines. Act like it.”
Cooper and Flores controlled themselves, while Harris performed a theatrical bow. “We have all been designated unfit for duty,” Harris said. “Psychologically, you understand. We discussed it and we are willing to take whatever punishment Cassidy and that bastard Gruger dish out.”
Ram looked down at the Marines around him. They were all crazy?
Great. My allies.
“We’ll show them what happens when they treat us like shit,” Cooper said, eyes wide. “We’ll treat them like shit right back.”
“Yeah,” Flores said, nodding frantically. “Yeah. Right, Fury?” She nudged the old Marine, slumped against a lab bench leg, with her foot.
Corporal Fury woke up for a moment. “Sure,” she said, scratching her nose. “We’ll do that.” Fury closed her eyes again.
“No,” Stirling said. “This isn’t about punishments or revenge. This is about doing what’s right. They took our people. If it was any of us out there, we would expect to be rescued. No matter what. This is a matter of principle. Captain Cassidy says going after them is bound to fail and losing Marines in the attempt would only weaken the position here. Maybe he’s right. And he’s in command and he has to look at the big picture, of course he does. But this is one of those times when you have to decide what being human really means. Why even bother surviving out here in a new star system if we don’t look after our own? Why bother taking this planet if we’re going to be the kind of people who abandon each other? It’s the principle of the thing. It’s the principle, even if that means breaking our oaths and disobeying orders. Even if it proves to the Captain that we are what him and Gruger claim that we are, it doesn’t matter. It’s the right thing to do. That’s why.”
Rama nodded. “I feel the same way.”
Tseng scoffed. “It’s easy to have such noble sentiments but if you were in command, you would know the burden of sacrificing your personal honor for the greater good.”
“That right, sir?” Stirling said. “Why did you say you’d come with us, then?”
The ensign hesitated.
“Wait,” Ram said, excitement rising up into his throat. “Come with us? You’re going to come with me? Not just help me to get away but come with me, to fight?”
Stirling nodded. “All the way, sir. All the way.”
Flores jumped up and unlocked a row of low storage lockers under the bench she sat on.
They had already prepared for the expedition. The team had begged, borrowed and stolen masses of rations, water, extra ammunition, batteries, medical supplies and oxygen capsules for the mission. With all these items in limited supply on the surface, it was an impressive feat for such a short time. No doubt, some of the equipment would soon be missed and questions would be asked.
“I don’t know what to say,” Ram said, heart thumping in his chest. “I’m impressed. But I assume some of this stuff will be missed? Questions asked?”
“Yes,” Tseng said.
“No, sir,” Stirling said. “No one knows where anything is right now. It’s disorganized.”
“Alright, good. That’s a lot of equipment to carry,” Ram said.
“Not for you,” Harris said. “You can march nonstop for days with a hundred kilos on your back.”
Ram nodded. “We’ll have to outrun anyone sent after us. And we’ll have to bring our people back from the alien base while being pursued, in all likelihood.”
“I see what you’re saying,” Sergeant Stirling said. “And we have discussed it.”
“No,” Ensign Tseng said. “Certainly not. I will not allow it.”
“We will need the ETATs,” Ram said. “Without them, there’s no point in going at all. You should just call it off, if that’s how you feel.”
“Please, sir,” Flores said. “Fury, tell the officer we need the vehicles.”
Fury stayed asleep.
“I can allow that the outpost will survive without my team,” Tseng said. “But I will not deprive our company of vital materiel.”
“They’re barely using them, sir,” Stirling said. “They’re just sitting there, half the time.”
“The ETATs are utilized for long range patrols,” Tseng pointed out. “We simply cannot take them.”
“What if we just take one, sir?” Stirling said.
Tseng pursed his lips. “I am willing to discuss compromises. What about if we take the bulldozer? If we remove the ballast rocks and perhaps modify the gearbox, we could get up to quite a decent clip. Ten klicks per hour, perhaps.”
Stirling blinked a few times. “The bulldozer, sir? Take the bulldozer on a raid, sir?”
“A rescue mission, Sergeant Stirling. Not a raid,” Tseng said. “All we require is a means of transport for the gear and for the wounded, once we extract them. The bulldozer would do the job.”
Ram thought it wasn’t the worst idea ever but there was something else on his mind. “That would deprive them the ability to construct the defenses, Ensign Tseng. We need to take the ETATs, both of them, even if it’s just so they don’t follow us and catch us up.” Stirling nodded while Ram explained to the rest of them. “If we go on foot or in the bulldozer, they’ll just catch us in the ETATs and bring us back. We have to take them or we should forget the whole thing.”
I will have to sabotage one and steal the other myself.
“What if we just disable the ETATs, sir?” Flores asked. “Damage the units. I don’t know.”
“Slash the tires, Flores?” Harris asked, grinning.
“Bury the batteries?” Cooper said.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Harris said. “They’re standard units, do you know how many battery blocks they have in store?”
“No, please educate me,” Cooper said.
Stirling growled at them. “Shut up, both of you. All of you. And keep your voices down. Now. We will not damage the ETATs. All we are doing is borrowing them for a day or two until we return. It’s like Ram says. If we do anything else, we might as well not try anything at all. Isn’t that right, Ensign?”
Tseng nodded. “Yes, that’s right.” He seemed miserable.
Some leader.
“Do any of you know how to counter our geolocators? Our tracker devices?” Ram asked. “Our suits have them, right? Where are they, can we take them out? Smash them up?”
Stirling nodded at Harris.
“I can find them well enough but we don’t want to smash them,” Harris said. “If we need extraction or if we get separated from each other, we might need them operational. We have powerful ones in the suit but each of us has subdermal geolocators as part of our biometrics chipset. But they are designed to be temporarily disabled when needed, for example if stealth is required.”
Ram nodded, recalling that he had been told that before, at some point. “And they think the wheelers can sense electromagnetic signals. So our armor can be switched to stealth mode.”
Harris grinned. “You do remember.”
Ram thought that was strange thing to say. “We need a command code, right?”
Stirling replied. “That’s right. An officer’s command code.”
Everyone looked at Ensign Tseng.
He held up a hand. “Alright. Yes. Alright, I will. But if we do so within the outpost, the command network will alert the Command Team. Captain Cassidy will send Sergeant Major Gruger. And Gruger and his thugs will put an end to our little conspiracy before we get anywhere.” Tseng looked at each of them in turn. “You might not care about your careers any more but you might not enjoy being locked up until the Sentinel arrives. I would not put it past Cassidy to have us sedated instead. Leave us comatose for days, weeks. Is that a risk you are all willing to take?”
No one hesitated. Even Corporal Fury stirred to confirm it.
Tseng transferred the code to Harris, touching his wrist screen to his tech specialist’s wrist.
“I’ll need to redirect the signals,” Harris said, grinning like a madman. “
And I know how to do it. First, someone will have to procure a backup patrol drone from storage. I will ensure it stays off the network and send it in the opposite direction to the way the aliens went.”
“The opposite?” Stirling asked.
The grin dropped from Harris’ face. “Yes? I mean, no?”
“You bloody idiot. You don’t think they would wonder why we are heading away from the people we want to rescue?”
“So…” Harris said. “I should send it a few degrees of arc off our true trajectory?”
Stirling smiled at Harris. “You see? They really did only send geniuses on this mission after all.”
“Right then,” Ram said, standing up. “Let’s get to work.”
***
Rama was certain they would get caught. There was no way an entire team could sneak out of a heavily guarded outpost. Especially one where every single individual on the planet was known to every other, in some way or another. The outpost was protected by a web of mobile surveillance drones, emplaced sensors and patrolling Marines with the data stream analyzed by the outpost AI for possible threats and even a device as small as an insect would be detected attempting to breach the perimeter.
They had merely a handful of variables in their favor. The automated and human defenses were aimed outward. The fear was that the enemy would attempt a sneak attack, not that a few people would sneak out in the night. It wasn’t as though there was a brothel or a bar in the hills. And no one truly expected the wheelhunters to launch a surprise assault in the darkness. It had not been their style, so far. No one was on high alert and the AI had most of its attention on methods to increase atmospheric processing, enhance the filtering and quarantine procedures, streamline the efficiency of the reactor cooling systems, calculate the optimal spread of the genetically tailored Earth microbes by the xenobiologists’ drones and so on. At least, that’s what Harris assured them.
Harris was their key asset. Before his mental breakdown, Harris had been an infiltration specialist. His expertise with surveillance equipment and how to counter it was second to none. In fact, Stirling had assured Ram, Harris might just be an actual genius, if that word was really worth anything.